James McCune Smith found it strange that in the constitution of the American Anti-Slavery Society, no mention was made of social equality as one of its aims. The editor of the Northern Star and Freeman's Advocate had a terse bit of advice: "Until abolitionists eradicate prejudice from their own hearts, they can never receive the unwavering confidence of the people of color."
There were instances in which white abolitionists attended concerts or recitals at which Negroes were barred or segregated. Moreover, some abolitionists, particularly during the formative 1830's, held that Negroes should not be admitted to antislavery meetings or hold membership in the societies, a topic which Charles Follen aired fully at the meeting of the Massachusetts society in January 1836. A year earlier, a few colored young women began to attend the monthly gatherings of the Fall River Female Anti-Slavery Society, a circumstance that almost brought about its dissolution. At its meeting on September 15, 1837, the Junior Anti-Slavery Society of the City and County of Philadelphia debated the question, "is it expedient for colored persons to join our anti-slavery soci- eties?" The vote of 31 in favor to 21 against was hardly reas- suring to Negroes in light of the youthful, and presumably more liberal, makeup of the society.
Negroes in Albany were disenchanted with a local abolitionist who refused to rent them a frame tenement, giving as his reason the attitude of his neighbors. This consideration for the feelings of the community was the chief argument advanced by the conservative abolitionists. Undoubtedly, however, it often cloaked a color prejudice of which the practitioner was not aware. In reformist circles, as elsewhere, there was a strong undercurrent of anti-Negro sentiment, mirrored in the common preference for light-skinned Negroes over those of richer pigmentation. "She was not very dark," wrote Sarah H. Southwick of Susan Paul, a fellow member of the Boston Female Anti-Slavery Society. Joshua Easton might urge his white co-workers to strike not at slavery alone, but against the spirit which made color the mark of degradation.13 However, there were limits to what exhortation would do. Conquering an aversion to social contacts with Negroes was not easy; abolitionizing one's own heart was a formidable as- signment.
Even when they worked side by side, white and Negro abolitionists scarcely sustained a peer relationship. Whites tended to be paternalistic, reflecting a "father knows best" attitude. They tended to praise an above-average Negro almost to the point of eulogy, as if in surprise that he revealed any ability at all. And like the earlier abolitionists they were fond of giving advice to Negroes, their remarks interlarded with beatitudes. The advice might have been good—certainly it was much like that given by Negro leaders themselves. But if one Negro criticized another for patronizing a Dan Rice minstrel show while ignoring a magic lantern exhibition on slavery being held in the same block, the whole thing somehow seemed freer of racial connotations.
The chief criticism against the white abolitionists by their black counterparts was their halfheartedness in carrying out the second of their twin goals—the elevation of the free Negro. Equal rights for Negroes was an essential corollary of abolitionism—improving the lot of the Northerners of color was a clearly stated goal. The Maine Union in Behalf of the Colored Race, formed in Portland in 1835, was a reflection of this outlook. Aware of this dual commitment, nearly every abolitionist society had a special committee on the welfare of the free Negro. But in most instances this is about as far as it went—such committees, as a rule, simply did not function.
Hence, in this quarter the abolitionists were vulnerable. In their strong campaign against slavery in the South, "they half overlooked slavery in the North," wrote a Negro editor in 1839. The Negro people needed jobs, as their spokesmen constantly stressed. In 1831 Maria W. Stewart asked "several women" to hire colored girls. Abolitionists were asked to give Negro apprentices and mechanics an equal chance at least, and a preference if possible—their "being a neglected people." In an editorial that brought a flood of approving letters, an Albany weekly informed the white abolitionists that Negroes did not expect to ride in their carriages or sup at their parties, but they did hope that avenues of employment would be opened up by their alleged friends.